


Public (Bus) Humiliation

by breadfuneral



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Love at First Sight, M/M, No Dialogue, Pining Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadfuneral/pseuds/breadfuneral
Summary: The setting: a cramped bus on a slushy day.The outcome: the death of any sense of peace Keith has ever known.





	Public (Bus) Humiliation

_Oh my Lord, oh my lord, oh my lord_

The soft tenor voice at the front of the bus sang this phrase reverently, and repeatedly, and with no end in sight. 

The bus’s engine rumbled on steadily as they rolled down the backroads and a disgusting mix of snow/rain/slush/hail hit the windows with little _speck speck speck_ s. 

The heater wheezed inconsistently, but blessedly, as the packed sardines of fellow passengers mumbled through their stilted conversations. 

Keith was lucky: the bus barely ran late at all today (20 minutes), which means he got to spend less time in the soggy cold weather (only about 40 minutes with his walk to the bus stop), and he somehow managed to snag a lone seat just as a little old lady (maybe 70?) was ambling off. So he sat: only slightly wet, only moderately freezing, and completely alone (except for the 15 other occupants buzzing in the background). 

He scuffed his worn boots against his even more worn backpack and stared out the splattered-with-mud window. He clenched his hands, wrapped in his only expensive piece of clothing: his gloves, and tried to get the feeling back all the way to the very tips. Truth was, he only bought the (too) expensive gloves so he wouldn’t have to painstakingly pry them off his frozen phalanges every time he wanted to light a cigarette, unfortunately the amazing grip didn’t equate to amazing warmth. 

So he sat, waiting for his stop, absently regretting that his passion made him get a motorcycle with his scraped up wages instead of a car, gripping and ungripping his slowly warming hands, and stared out at the gross weather through the gross window. 

The empty-minded wait was almost peaceful, despite the nonstop _speck speck speck_ -ing, the _oh my lord_ repeat hymn-ing, and the scandalous whispers of gossip from two women about a mutual friend in the seat behind him ( _and they were roommates_ ). 

Peace was only ever temporary for him, Keith lamented in his thoughts, for the bus had slowed, lurched, stopped, and opened its doors for a great gust of wind and another rider who would soon rob him of his solitude. 

Deliberately _not_ pouting, Keith scooted closer to the window, kicked his bag along with his momentum, and tried to make his face appear as if he didn’t want to maim whoever would be walking his way (it was his resting face, but anyone who was also riding the public bus probably didn’t need the extra problem today). 

The last effort was unnecessary, for as he looked up at the person he would be sitting next to (too close to, or perhaps not close enough?) for the remainder of the ride, he had to actively stop himself from drooling. 

The man was an Adonis, with drenched white hair, a scar across his nose, and a jawline that could cut his perfectly-styled mullet with one wrong move. (Keith would thank him for the opportunity.) He was built like he could punch through a brick wall just to land a right hook on Keith’s jaw (Did he want that? Was this a newly public-bus discovered kink?), his eyes _glimmered_ with their perfect steel gray, and his bulky perfection was pressed almost right along Keith’s side. 

The man turned to introduce himself, smile lopsided and genuine, voice deep and soft, and hands warmed and calloused. It was with a sudden clarity that Keith realized that peace he held only a moment ago was gone forever, he would never know it again. (Rest in peace, Peace?) 

_Oh my Lord, oh my lord, oh my lord_ was suddenly much more relatable.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm still not good at this and I suck at dialogue so here's this non-dialogue fresh public bus AU (not really)


End file.
